Malo had never wanted to be a saint, let alone a prophet or visionary. He was content to work for the Ponticate, splicing theology and chopping logic, copying old manuscripts for redaction and correction, stealing late hours to write his Universal History. He could make words serve him like God used the elements. Soon, he would replace the aging Father Jaruman, and lead the improbable mission on the Northern Alps. But the heretical Hidden Isles, whose holy texts he admired for their literary style and had helped to save, were the last place he would ever want to visit. One could tell they had gotten it all wrong from reading their Vitae. It was all a question of understanding the power of words.   - Published 2007-12-08